Life as it is. I have lived for over forty years and I've seen 'life as it is'. Pain. Misery. Cruelty beyond belief. I've heard all the voices of God's noblest creature -- moans from bundles of filth in the street.
I've been a soldier and a slave. I've seen my comrades fall in battle or die more slowly under the lash in Africa. I've held them at the last moment. These were men who saw 'life as it is,' but they died despairing. No glory. No brave last words. Only their eyes, filled with confusion, questioning, 'Why?' I do not think they were asking why they were dying, but why they had ever lived.
When life itself seems lunatic, who knows where madness lies? Perhaps to be too practical is madness. To surrender dreams, this may be madness. To seek treasure where there is only trash. Too much sanity may be madness. But maddest of all -- to see life as it is, and not as it should be!
Man of La Mancha.
Cuando la vida en sí parece demencial, ¿quién sabe donde yace la locura? Quizás ser muy practico es una locura. Abandonar los sueños puede ser locura. Buscar tesoros donde sólo hay basura. Demasiada cordura puede ser locura. Pero lo más demente de todo -- ver la vida como es, ¡y no como debería ser!
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